prologue

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heejin pov

I walked out from my room to see my father and his 'clients' and their henchmen having a meeting in the dining room. It was about to end soon, seeing as how their cups were almost empty from the tea we had poured for them earlier. They were dismissed next, everyone not taking another moment to stay in the house. Some may say that it was too dangerous to loiter at one's house. Especially if it was their own base.

I watched my father come out of the room. We met gazes. His hand extend outward to welcome me down to him. He pulled me to his side, as he waved off the visitors.

"When I'm long gone, or maybe when you're a little bit older, the mafia hierarchy will be handed down to you. Ensure that no other mafia will take you away from your gang. Instead, you can always take over theirs," my father spoke.

I was 13 then. I didn't know much about the mafia world, only that it was violent but also hidden from the world.

"This is our turf and make sure it stays that way," my dad whispered to me.

It sounded like a threat, but not to me. It was directed to anyone else who could possibly hear in on us. I stood there with bandaged arms and legs from training earlier. The iodine merely pinching my skin like a small ant bite.

"I'll make you proud dad," I whispered back.

Fast forward seven years

"I'm here to see my father," I told the receptionist.

"Heejin! So nice to see you!" she exclaimed.

"You know where's the room. Go ahead!" she welcomed.

I gave a small "thank you" before heading towards my father's room. It was located in a secluded corner of the mental ward. Where usually all of the rich families put their mentally ill loved ones there. Therefore, it was quiet since no one really met with them. I opened the door to see my father chained down to the bed as per usual.

"Morning dad," I greeted.

"Morning sweetheart," he greeted back.

He was only soft around me, his only daughter.

"How's the mafia?" he asked.

"Doing well. We had our gun shipments come in from our client in America earlier today. James? Do you remember that kid," I asked.

"Oh! He's taken over his father's gang. How nice," my dad replied, as though he was trying to remember an old classmate.

"About time ain't it?" I asked rhetorically.

There was a television on top of the door, allowing my father to watch the news and movies and what not. Suddenly, the news popped up.

"There seems to be a new gang in town," my father spoke.

"Tell me about it. They make shipment movement so difficult nowadays," I complained.

"Then why don't you 'join' them," my father stated.

"Join them?" I clarified.

"Become part of them, somehow. Then take over their mafia. Kill them off one by one until you've collected all eleven bodies," my father raised the idea.

I smiled a little. "That's a good idea though."

"Right! You can act all tiny and scared when you're in front of them. I'm in a mental hospital for a reason," he exclaimed.

"A fake one that is," I pointed out.

"It's my sacrifice as a father and gang leader. C'mon," he stated, stretching his arms out enough.

"Yeah yeah," I replied, taking a seat beside him.

"And you have to remember. That at the end of the day," his voice trailed. "You're always gonna be your father's girl," he continued, before wrapping his arms around me.

"I know," I replied, a hint of bittersweet in my words.

"I know," I replied, a hint of bittersweet in my words

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